


Friends: Old and New

by JamieT_Hot_Spocket



Series: The Saga of Sherlock and Victor [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Group Sex, Happy Ending, I mean this is nothing but smut, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Not Beta Read, Smut, but it's pretty much pwp, there's some fluff at the end cause I just had to, this is the smutty begining to a victor/sherlock series I'll prly do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 08:50:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1504256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamieT_Hot_Spocket/pseuds/JamieT_Hot_Spocket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock meets one Victor Trevor at the gay bar during John's stag night.  Upon returning to 221b he finds Victor's phone number in his pocket.  He uses one recreational activity in place of another to forget the pain of loosing his John.  Victor Trevor brings friends, Sherlock isn't shy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friends: Old and New

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by photos of the infamous Gay Bar scene. I felt the need to give Sherlock sometime to grieve John, and then Victor Trevor decided to add himself to the story. My fancast for Victor is and always will be Idris Elba, sorry Hiddleston fans. Dedication this to tumblr's jujuproblems and johnfuckingwatson. 
> 
> Victor and Sherlock never met in Uni.
> 
> Note this isn't so much a thought out and planned story as it is just words and a bastardized formatting of a story.

Sherlock knows they're in a Gay Bar, he's done it on purpose. Both he and John are nearly three sheets to the wind and Sherlock's hoping that John will show interest in any of the men. Any bit of hope that Sherlock and John could ever be together is dashed when John says he's hitting the head and then they'll be heading to the next bar. Sherlock finishes his drink, poof ball hitting him in the face as if to mock him, waiting for John. In his state of drunk wallowing he orders another drink when a man walks up to him. "Hi, noticed you here with your boyfriend, but couldn't not say something. You're stunning, any chance I could get your number?" Sherlock frowns, "Not my boyfriend. Best friend actually, getting married soon, real soon, marrying her." The guy frowns, noticing how drunk Sherlock is. He pats him on the shoulder, "Sorry mate, uhh, take my number anyway. In case you ever want to talk." They part ways as John comes back from the bathroom. The night goes on, flirting at Baker Street, the interruption by the client, waking up at Scotland Yard, John going home to Mary.

 

The wedding is 4 days later, Sherlock watches the man he loves get married, watches him dance with his wife. Sherlock Holmes grabs his coat and leaves. Baker Street is empty, Sherlock bends over to remove a brick from the fireplace, what point is there now? Before he can grab the needles he notices a slip of paper on the ground. It's a bar napkin, a number is listed and a name. Victor Trevor. Oh yes, the man at the bar. Sherlock holds the napkin and the drugs in his hands, and with a frustrated sigh and blurring eyes he returns the drugs to their hiding place. Breathing heavily, Sherlock retrieves his mobile and dials the number. The voice that answers is deeper then remembered, gentle. Sherlock's voice breaks, why is he doing this? Hurting himself like this to get rid of the love for John Watson, sex just one more addiction to add to the list, right after his former flat mate.

"Victor, we met at the bar several nights ago. I was wondering if you were free?" Sherlock can feel the wetness on his skin. Weakness, transport, the defect found on the loosing side. Lost, he'd lost.

Victor takes a breath on the other end, "It was today wasn't it? Your friends wedding. I've got some friends over, if you'd care to join us?"

"I was rather hoping we could spend some, intimate time together." Is Sherlock's scoffed reply. Transport, all he wants to do is distract his transport, shut of his mind, make the thoughts of John Watson stop.

"Oh, I see." A cough,"How about this, you know I never did get your name,"-"Sherlock."-"Sherlock, are you sure about this? Is your head in the right place mate?"

Sherlock huffs in annoyance, "My head is exactly the problem Victor. It's too loud, there's too much. If you wish to decline just say so. It is not so difficult to find another vice." He's angry now, angry at Victor Trevor, angry at Mycroft for being right, angry at himself for falling in love.

"Hey, no need to shout Sherlock. Listen, if you're really sure," a sigh and a pause, muffled speaking on the other end, "Do you want to come over here, or should we head over to yours?"

'We', well Sherlock certainly wasn't anticipating Victor and his friends deciding to join. Distraction, he needed distraction, but he couldn't leave Baker Street. If Mrs. Hudson were to return and notice his absence Mycroft would have all of MI6 looking for him. "My place, 221b Baker Street. The door will be unlocked, straight up the steps." He hangs up just as Victor begins to reply. He sets his mobile on the coffee table before walking in a daze to his bedroom. He removes the jacket, shoes, tie, and waist coat. Reminders he'd rather not have at the moment. He returns to the living room, starts a fire, and takes his place in his chair. 

He's roused by someone calling his name, oh it's Victor. Looking up he's greeted by the smiling face of the man. "Hello again Sherlock" Victor says, placing a dark hand on top of Sherlock's pale one. Sherlock turns his hand over in Victor's, holding onto it like a lifeline. He looks over Victor's shoulder at the two other guests standing in the room, he notes the looks of pity on their faces, well hidden at that. So, Victor told them his sad story. He begins to deduce the slender one, built similar to him, more muscle, a cook, no owner of a restaurant, mid 30's, "Brilliant". Sherlock jerks, John's voice still lingering in his mind. Sherlock stands abruptly, he faces the three men, all attractive, no immediate threats detected, he glances at Victor.

"Do your friends find me attractive?" Victor gives him a humorous look.

"I guess? My friends are in the room, but I don't see what that has to,"

"Am I attractive to the both of you?" Sherlock needs this, this distraction.

The one built like him, glances at the third guest, younger than all three of them just out of Uni, rugby player build, "Yea, yea mate you're pretty fit." The rugby player nods in agreement.

"'Good, then I imagine a foursome isn't out of the question. And before there's any complaints I am aware that the three of you have at one point or another slept together. My bed should accommodate but we can also make use of the living room." Sherlock waits for a reply, but frowns when he's only greeted with baffled stares.

It's Victor that speaks up, clearly the leader, gentleness evident in his deep voice "Sherlock, are you sure about this? If you're trying to get back at your friend this isn't the way to do it. We don't have to do anything, we can order in and just talk if-" But Sherlock cuts him off. He turns to Victor, realizing for the first time that day how tired he really is.

"There's nothing I can do to get back at him Victor. I want this, I want this distraction, I want to feel something." At this point Sherlock also realizes he still has hold of Victor's hand. He squeezes it, what more does he have to do to convince them that this is what he's decided. Victor looks at Sherlock for what feels like an hour, then he turns to his friends. A shared glance tells Sherlock everything he needs to know, and as he moves into Victor's personal space he address the two at the door. "Please close the door and lock it, there's another one in the kitchen, I don't fancy my landlady returning home to witness this." They do as told, and then make their way to Sherlock and Victor. 

Victor stands taller than Sherlock, with a soft smile, he leans down and gingerly kisses the detectives lips. Sherlock whimpers, moving his left hand up Victor's arm he curls it at his shoulder. The kiss intensifies, Sherlock licking at Victor's lower lip, wanting the other man in his mouth. Sherlock startles when he feels another set of hands on him, the rugby player, Andrew Victor had said, has his hands resting on Sherlock's hips. Breaking the kiss Sherlock turns to Andrew and then Bradley, "Bedroom, past the kitchen." Andrew places a kiss on sherlock's nape before turning, grabbing Bradley's hand and walking towards the bedroom. Sherlock once again turns to Victor, "Don't be gentle with me. When we go into that room I want the three of you to fuck me. Make me forget, don't try and handle me like some broken toy." Victor's stare is hard, but not unkind. With a nod of compliance he tangles his hands in Sherlock's curls, Sherlock moans into the rough kiss that follows. As they begin to blindly make their way to the bedroom Victor's hands begin to travel, gripping at all of the parts he can reach, before landing on Sherlock's ass. In the bedroom Andrew and Bradley have stripped down to their pants, fit specimens if Sherlock has any say. Strong men, more muscular than him, regular alpha males. Victor untucks Sherlock's shirt from his trousers and begins on his buttons. 

"If we're going to do this like you want, no more orders. Let us take care of you." He pushes the shirt off of Sherlock's shoulders before reaching for his belt, "how do you want us?" A hand slips into Sherlock's pants and he gasps. Sherlock suddenly realizes how long it's been since his last sexual encounter, before his fall, before The Woman. As Victor starts to mouth at his throat Sherlock looks at Andrew and Bradley, both hard in their pants, hard for him. He moans again before answering Victor's question.

"I want Andrew to fuck me first. I want all of you to take me, you last." Sherlock halts the movement of his hips into Victor's hand. "Use me, use my mouth." He's greedy, if he can't have John Watson tonight, then he'll have these three men. These three men that have agreed to use him, as if they were friends helping him deal with a break up with ice cream. 

With one last squeeze to his cock Victor growls out, "Then get on the bed." Sherlock's knees weaken slightly, if there's one thing he's always liked during sex it's being dominated, given orders, treated like a new recruit trying to impress his captain. But there's no captains here, just men who will fuck him to help him forget. As Sherlock slides onto his bed, propping himself near the middle, Andrew kneels infront of him, hooks his thumbs under his trousers and pants and pulls them off. Sherlock's bare now, the only one fully naked in the room, and it makes him shiver. As Andrew spreads his legs he leans up to kiss Sherlock, the hard push of his lips on Sherlock's, tongue forcing his mouth open. It ends as soon as it's started, and Andrew retreats back down Sherlock's body, pushing his legs up for a view of his hole. Sherlock's breathing has sped up, and he moans loudly when the flat of Andrew's tongue laps at his hole. Before Sherlock can push himself onto Andrew's tongue Bradley is on top of him, pinning his middle down, pants pulled under his balls exposing his cock. It's decently sized, thick and uncut, and Sherlock groans at the sight of it. 

"Can you open up for me baby? Take this cock?" And Sherlock nods, open mouthed as Bradley feeds him his cock. Sherlock swallows around the taste of it and toys with the foreskin below the head. Andrew continues licking from Sherlock's hole up to the tip of his cock, before he pushes his tongue into the now loosened entrance. Sherlock moans around the cock in his mouth and Bradley grunts in approval, and then they both moan. Andrew's got a slick finger in each of them, twisting and loosening them both. Bradley starts to push back on the finger and forward into Sherlock's mouth, Sherlock's breathing through his nose increases and Andrew adds another finger to Sherlock's hole, scissoring it open. Victor appears behind Sherlock. placing a hand in his hair, petting and massaging his scalp, before holding his head in place for Bradley to shallowly thrust into. Sherlock moans around his cock, lack of gag reflex enabling him to take as much as he can, three fingers now moving in and out of him. He keens though when the pad of one of Andrew's fingers brushes against his prostate, the electric feeling making his cock twitch. Sherlock taps the side of Bradley's thigh, signalling him to pull out, he clears his throat and takes a breath before speaking.

"The drawer, in the night stand over there, there's a cock ring. Put it on me or this is going to end too soon." Andrew leans over, fingers still in Sherlock, and retrieves the ring. He closes it around Sherlock's base, causing Sherlock to shudder. Bradley has taken himself in hand, looking at the saliva and precome staining Sherlock's mouth. Several more thrust of Andrew's fingers and Sherlock moans again, "Please, now. I'm ready." Andrew pulls a condom out of the same drawer, slips it on, wraps Sherlock's legs around his waist and pushes in. 

Sherlock moans deep in his throat and grasps at Bradley's thighs as Andrew pushes in groaning. "Fuck mate you're tight." He gives Sherlock time to adjust until Sherlock nods his head for a go. As Andrew starts thrusting into Sherlock's body, Victor tilts his head back, baring his length to Sherlock's view. Sherlock chokes out a groan as Victor lets him rub his face against his cock. Andrew speeds up his thrusting, Bradley now kneeling beside Sherlock on the bed, jerking himself off. Sherlock's body rocking with the force of the thrusts, his moans growing louder, and then Victor slowly pushes into his mouth. Sherlock takes all of Victor into his mouth, the head forming a bump in Sherlock's throat. As Andrew continues fucking into Sherlock, Sherlock begins tightening around him. With a muffle shout Sherlock's cock jerks, the dry orgasm causing him to tighten around Andrew. Andrew grunts as his thrusts become erratic, his own orgasm causing him to snap his hips into Sherlock's. Victor pulls out of Sherlock's mouth, fingers tight around the base of his cock. Sherlock's panting causing his chest to rise and fall, his nipples pink peaks against the white of his skin. Andrew places kisses on them, continuing up to Sherlock's mouth, he inserts his tongue into Sherlock's mouth as he pulls his cock out. Sherlock whines at the feeling, wishing he were full again. Andrew kisses him one last time before standing to throw the condom away. Bradley stands up off the bed, he nudges Sherlock to get up on his knees, turning him over. Sherlock is sluggish, head down and turned against the bed, ass in the air, open and waiting. He moans again when he feels Bradley lick a strip from the tip of his cock to his sensitive and open hole. 

Bradley rubs his covered penis against Sherlock's opening, just teasing his head inside, he pushes in slowly while wrapping his arms around Sherlock's midsection. "You can relax baby, I've got you, and I don't think I can last long." Bradley's habit of calling him "baby" sends a flash of warmth up his spine, he let's his back dip in Bradley's gentle grip. With a kiss to his right shoulder Bradley begins grinding into Sherlock, with every circle of his hips he grazes Sherlock's prostate. The feeling is like lighting, the shocks of pleasure going straight to his bound cock, making it jerk against his belly. Bradley begins thrusting in and out of Sherlock, never fully pulling out though, the constant sensation of "full" causes a continuous litany of moans to escape Sherlock's swollen lips. Bradley continues to mouth at Sherlock's shoulders, his left hand wraps softly around his cock. thumb circling the head. Sherlock lets out a string of "oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck"'s as Bradley uses his body. Sherlock feels Bradley start to come in the shaking of their entwined legs, as Bradley's hips pump into Sherlock he sucks a bruise into the back of his neck. 

With a final "So good baby", Bradley pulls out of him, standing on wobbly legs he moves over to Andrew who's sat in the corner chair, washcloth at the ready. Sherlock catches his breath before he's roughly turned over, Victor taking hold of both of his hands. Erection almost too painful, and knowing he'll be soar tomorrow, Sherlock still tries to thrust his body up against Victor's. Victor is now as naked as Sherlock, his fit body perspiring from earlier activities and arousal is like some statue come alive. And as he raises Sherlock's arms above his head and rubs their groins together Sherlock chokes out a sob. He's over stimulated, over tired, compromised by his transport, and Victor kisses him. Not hard, not passionately, just a kiss. Mouth to mouth, and as the kiss continues he pushes himself into Sherlock. Victor is big, bigger than Andrew or Bradley, and as he fits into Sherlock's already abused hole Sherlock's whole body shakes. His first thrust is a direct hit to Sherlock's prostate and Sherlock breaks the kiss to yelp. He's panting for breath as Victor speeds his thrusts up, placing kisses along Sherlock's throat. He leans into Sherlock's ear and husks, "That's it Sherlock, I have you," And Sherlock chokes as the tears begin to fall. Victor allows Sherlock's hands to fall, they wrap around his shoulders, nails leaving marks as Victor fucks him with such force. Sherlock's body begins to tighten around him, and Victor reaches for the cock ring, sliding it off of Sherlock, with a final snap of his hips they're both coming. Sherlock's shout is most likely heard next door, while Victor's grunt reverberates through Sherlock's body. Victor pulls out as carefully as he can, but Sherlock still moans at the pull on his tender skin. Andrew approaches the bed with the clean washcloth and hands it to Victor, who cleans himself and Sherlock of with gentle motions. Sherlock has calmed, but his tears don't seem to stop, Victor worriedly asks if he's ok, if it wasn't too much. Sherlock replies as Sherlock would, "Very satisfactory. You're welcome to stay the night if it's an inconvenience to leave. The sofa in the living room is comfortable and there's a room upstairs." Bradley and Andrew nod at the two men still on the bed and exit the room, the sound of two sets of footsteps retreating up the stairs signals where they've both chosen to sleep. Victor helps Sherlock under the covers before pulling the other end down as well. Sherlock makes no comment, simply turns to face the other way and drifts off to sleep. If at night Victor wakes up to Sherlock tucked into his arm, he never says.

********* *********** ***********

Sherlock wakes in the morning feeling achy and still tired. His brown curls are a birds nest atop his head, and the crust and slight stickiness of past tears lingers on his face. There is no Victor in his bed, and no clothes on his floor, the flat is quiet. He retrieves a pair of pajama bottoms and his dressing gown and walks to the adjoining bathroom for his morning rituals. Sherlock brushes his teeth, attempts to tame his hair, and checks his rear for taring, there is none. Upon opening the door to the hallway he's greeted by the smell of toast and sausages. Taking a deep breath he bellows out a "Good Morning Mrs. Hudson, I trust the reception ended earl-" but he stops when he fails to find his landlady in the kitchen. Instead, Victor Trevor is cooking sausages and eggs at the stove, dress shirt open and only a pair of pants on the bottom. "Hello", Sherlock quietly states.

"Good Morning, I hope I'm not imposing, the boys left to go home, Andrew's got rugby practice today and Bradley can never entrust anyone to the restaurant." Victor's morning voice is deep and husky, Sherlock's mind quickly replays the events of last night. 

With a cough to clear his throat and a turn of his head to hide his blush Sherlock responds, "Ahem, yes well thank you for this, and last night. I trust you didn't disturb any of the jars on the table or fridge?" There's a jar of eyes in the fridge he's been testing a new bacteria on, and if it's been contaminated that's a months worth of work out the window.

"Haven't disturbed a thing Sherlock. Sit, I'm almost done." Victor smiles as he points with the spoon. Sherlock not used to this situation gingerly sits at the table. Having not eaten in several days and after the rigorous workout of last night the food smells quite appetizing. Victor serves them each a plate before sitting down across from Sherlock, Sherlock briefly notes that he is sitting in what was John's chair as Victor is seated in his. As they both tuck into their meals Victor breaks the silence, "So, Mr. Holmes, if I'm not being to forward I would say you have a vacancy for a roommate." Sherlock sets his fork down, and finishes chewing his eggs. He'd not know Victor knew who he was, stupid deduction as there aren't many Sherlock's and only one 221b Baker Street. His heart aches only briefly at the mention of the vacancy.

"Yes Mr. Trevor I do seem to have a vacancy, either you're trying to be subtle in asking to move in or you're attempting to get me to talk about my lack of best friend." Sherlock isn't sure whether he sounds defensive or hurt. Victor folds his hands on the table.

"Asking if you need a new roommate. I English at the University of Westminster and the commute from here would be a lot less tedious than my current one. I've got more than enough to cover rent, and I'm guessing I keep hours as odd as yours." Victor is honest, and forward and charming, and apparently even Sherlock Holmes can't escape it. 

"I'll speak with Mrs. Hudson about terms and signing a new lease." Sherlock states, he jumps when he feels a foot against his calf, Victor chuckles.

"Good, now finish your breakfast before it gets cold." He rumbles. Sherlock Holmes lifts his fork once more and begins deducing Victor Trevor.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, so this turned into a huge thing. I just kept going with it and tada. So tell me what you think? I feel like Sherlock was OOC, although after Series 3 who even know what Sherlock is like anymore. 
> 
> I'm hoping to continue with more little ficlets about Sherlock and Victor and their relationship. Prompts are welcome.


End file.
